


Through the storm

by EnlacingLines



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Ultra rare pair Big Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:34:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26230471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnlacingLines/pseuds/EnlacingLines
Summary: Ashe thinks back to class, recalling the way Sylvain had been entirely off kilter while it rained, hesitating to leave. He waits for Sylvain to calm down before moving slightly more into his field of vision, partly to capture his attention and partly to get him looking away from the window.“You don’t like the weather,” Ashe says, not allowing any room for Sylvain to banter his way around it.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 16
Kudos: 80
Collections: 2020 Ultra Rarepair Big Bang





	Through the storm

**Author's Note:**

> A cute Sylvashe piece for the Ultra Rare Pair Big Bang! I had the pleasure of working with the lovely @arts_truck. Their amazing art for this piece is [here.](http://www.twitter.com/arts_truck/status/1300602736984035330/) Please check out their work! 
> 
> Thank you to the lovely MxTicketyBoo for betaing, you are wonderful.

The rain begins just as they start the seminar. Ashe grins to himself as their professor continues outlining what this week’s discussion will be, knowing he has some time before he needs to focus entirely. 

Autumn is setting in and the weather here is far different than he’s used to, although being in his second year at university is helping with adjustment. The more frequent rainfalls and storms are soothing; he’s always found it easier to relax and sleep with the sound of rain, and he just knows today will be good as it’s already beginning with a shower. 

A muffled curse from the seat next to him draws his attention. He glances over to see Sylvain has dropped his pen, his desk area strangely messy where he’s haphazardly set up the novel they’re looking at this week, his laptop and notepad. Ashe frowns, as Sylvain sits up, huffing and tugging at his hair. In the process, he catches Ashe staring, and smiles, Ashe smiling too before looking away, hoping he’s not too obvious. 

They’re friends, have been since they aced a project together last year. Ashe has to admit, at first he wasn’t exactly happy to be partnered with Sylvain; he’s notorious for his romantic antics, spent a lot of their first semester flirting rather than studying, and Ashe has too much riding on getting good grades to be pulled down by someone who doesn’t take class seriously. 

But he knows Sylvain now; doesn’t fully understand him per se, but knows he is far more than the front he puts on, is hard working and gets fantastic marks. Their project was the highest scoring in the class, and Ashe genuinely can only take credit for half that work. And since then, they’ve studied and hung out together many times, so he knows that despite it all, Sylvain is at heart a good guy. 

He’s also hot, but Ashe does not allow those types of thoughts to take control. 

Therefore, Ashe knows enough about him to be able to tell he’s acting oddly today. Distracted more than once as class progresses, actually forgets to open the novel at the correct times, and doesn’t seem to be taking many notes. Ashe normally would scold himself for prying, but he’s genuinely worried by the time class ends and Sylvain doesn’t seem to notice. 

As he packs up his things he strays, watching as Sylvain stares at the pouring rain as if hypnotised, which Ashe in a way can understand. But there’s probably a class coming in soon, and they are the only ones left in the room. 

“Sylvain? Are you okay?” he asks softly, and Sylvain jumps, looking utterly startled, face calming and a slight embarrassed laugh following as he rubs his neck. 

“Sorry, Ashe. I got a bit lost in err…” He gestures abruptly at the weather outside. 

Ashe chuckles, and looks out at the rain. “It can do that, I guess,” he says, but his momentary mirth drops when he sees the expression on Sylvain’s face. 

He looks uneasy. A little apprehensive, and still has not moved to leave the room. 

“Did you forget an umbrella? You can share mine,” he says, deciding that must be it, is the only reason Ashe can think of for his hesitation. 

Sylvain’s eyes widen and he suddenly laughs, standing, rapidly putting his belongings back in his bag. 

“Oh nah, I’m good, see?” he says, producing an umbrella from his bag, and finishes packing away. It’s such an abrupt change from his previous stillness that Ashe feels like he’s barely blinked before Sylvain is turning towards the door. 

“Thanks for the offer though. See you soon,” he says, leaving Ashe one of those perfectly brilliant smiles that he wishes he were immune to. 

  
Ashe follows him out, going a different route and into the wet day, exhaling as the calming sound of rain hitting the umbrella reaches him. It steadies him on his way back to his flat, although even with his favourite atmosphere, he cannot help but recall Sylvain’s look of worry at the rain. It plays on his mind for the rest of the day, Ashe wondering what could have possibly made him so concerned. 

* * *

The lightning strike is so absorbing, Ashe forgets he’s supposed to be doing a focused 15 minutes on writing his essay. He groans, then offers a sheepish look to the person studying two tables over, who glares as soon as he utters the sound. 

It’s closing in on 3am and Ashe really should have written more of his essay. That, or not tried to pull an all nighter. But the deadline is looming and he usually studies best at night, even if it seems now he’s more distracted than ever. 

The storm broke an hour or so ago; good in one way as the atmosphere has been heavy with the need for rain in the past few days, but bad as it sucks away Ashe’s concentration. He’d much rather be back in his comfy bed, falling asleep to the sounds of the rain hammering on the roof than in a library forcing himself to think critically. 

So he yawns and stretches, scanning down the list of potential sources for this essay before deciding on one he thinks might help. He notes down the code and locks his laptop before standing and wandering over to the right section. He’ll check out this book and the others before going back home; he’s useless right now but hopefully if he gets some sleep he’ll be able to finish this in the morning. 

The stacks are quiet, the few tables dotted around unoccupied as most of the main areas are free at this early hour. Ashe skirts passed a few abandoned carts, still half full of stock before finding and claiming his book. It’s as he wanders back that he catches a flash of colour out of one eye, and finds himself stopping. 

He peers around the shelves, wondering if he’s imagining things; he isn’t, Sylvain is sitting at a small round table near the back of the corridor, one of the most hidden areas, hence why Ashe hadn’t seen him originally. He’s also hunched over slightly, odd as Sylvain is one who usually stands so tall, his presence one Ashe can barely look away from in any room. 

He approaches carefully, wondering if there’s a reason Sylvain is so hidden away, but thinks they’re friends enough he hopefully won’t mind the interruption. As Ashe draws closer, he notices Sylvain seems to be holding onto the table, knuckles turning white with his grip. He doesn’t notice Ashe, so he clears his throat once before speaking. 

“Sylvain? Are you okay?” 

Sylvain starts with a gasp, moving so swiftly Ashe’s sleep filled mind can barely keep up, backing away slightly. His face is drained and pale, eye wide and still hasn’t let go of the table, causing Ashe to make his way over as concern grows. 

“A-ashe, hey,” he says, voice trembling a little as Ashe slides into the seat nearby, giving him space but still trying to offer some kind of support with his presence. 

Sylvain inhales a few times, attempting to smile, but clearly struggling to stay calm. Ashe looks around, trying to work out what might have happened, but they are the only two nearby. It’s just then a rumble of thunder echoes, and Sylvain jumps, hands slipping on the table. 

_ The storm. _ Ashe thinks back to class, recalling the way Sylvain had been entirely off kilter while it rained, hesitating to leave. He waits for Sylvain to calm down before moving slightly more into his field of vision, partly to capture his attention and partly to get him looking away from the window. 

“You don’t like the weather,” Ashe says, not allowing any room for Sylvain to banter his way around it. 

Sylvain laughs, a punch to Ashe’s gut at how bitter it sounds. He drops his head onto the desk and Ashe simply waits, as he seems to collect himself, then sits up again. 

“Pretty pathetic, huh?” he says with a smirk, a look that just increases the ache in Ashe’s stomach, the way Sylvain clearly expects, almost wants him to agree sending a surge of frustration chased with hurt through him. 

“Not at all, we all have fears,” Ashe says, surprised at how calm he is in the face of wanting to face down all of those perceptions Sylvain clearly has. 

Sylvain shakes his head though, the words bouncing off him without reaching, and Ashe feels something inside him sink. He can see there’s more to this than simple embarrassment, not that Sylvain needs to feel that way. 

“Of some rain? Come on, Ashe, don’t give me that,” he says, and Ashe feels his control slipping away.

“Sylvain, it doesn’t matter at all. I’m scared of ghosts. I’ve literally screamed at nothing before when I saw a shadow. Not all fear is rational, and it’s okay to have things you’re scared of,” he says, stern and quiet, Sylvain staring at him the whole time. 

It’s odd having all of Sylvain’s attention like this. His gaze bores into Ashe, all he can see for a second, the way the false, yellowish light of the otherwise shaded library makes the color deeper, tawny moving to brown with a flicker of each blink. It’s a shame in many ways that Sylvain is so afraid of the outside now, for the darkness and flashes of lightning mark him in a way that’s so stunning Ashe almost forgets it’s necessary to breathe until a faint burn in his lungs reminds him. 

“Uh wow, thanks Ashe. That’s quite motivational of you,” he says, soft and almost sweet, a genuine sentiment with perhaps the suspicion of a tease in there. 

He blushes without want, and turns away a little as he smiles, hoping Sylvain can’t see. 

“Well, it’s true. I can’t watch horror movies, everyone makes fun of me,” he says and it’s Sylvain’s turn to laugh. 

“You’re not missing out, most of them are terrible,” he says, and this time as the thunder rolls in, far fainter than the last time, Sylvain only winces slightly. 

Ashe grimaces, feeling as if the work of the past few minutes has been undone, and grapples for a new topic of distraction. However, it seems Sylvain is already there for he turns away from the window and looks back to Ashe. 

“Do you like it? The rain I mean. You always seem so happy when you look at it,” he says, and Ashe blinks. 

“I do?” he says, feeling a little silly when he’s spoken for of course he does, he knows this well. It’s just a shock to him Sylvain’s noticed. 

“Ha yeah, you smile when it’s raining,” Sylvain says and coughs, turning to his books and Ashe prays to every single deity who may exist that he doesn’t burst into flame. 

“I do like the rain. This weather is actually some of my favourite,” he replies, and Sylvain turns back to him, looking more curious than before. 

“Your favourite? When it’s wet and loud?” he says with clear distaste, and Ashe chuckles. 

“I know it may sound ridiculous, but it’s calming. The steady noise, the way it clears the atmosphere...I really do like the rain. It clears my mind, and helps me sleep. It’s relaxing,” he says. 

“If you’re inside,” Sylvain mutters, and Ashe nods. 

“Well yes, it’s obviously not so good when you’re stuck outside. Although I don’t mind walking in the rain, it’s-”

He cuts himself short before he utters the ridiculous thought of  _ romantic _ to Sylvain. The fact that he’s even considering talking to Sylvain about things that he considers romantic has him wincing internally, but it doesn’t seem that Sylvain has followed his train of thought. 

“Not sure I ever really looked at it as...cleansing, I guess,” Sylvain muses in the silence, and Ashe clumsily grabs onto that thought. 

“It can be, yes. And the grass always smells good after summer rain,” he says, and Sylvain actually smiles then, the large encompassing grin which soothes Ashe in its familiarity. 

“That I do agree with, especially when it’s been very hot. I hate the heat,” he says with a grimace, and Ashe has to agree. 

They move onto just talking then. Sylvain about summers with his school friends, a few of whom Ashe knows already. Ashe about his favourite ice cream he made last year when back home, to celebrate his adopted father’s birthday. Then topics move as they do, until they’re both yawning and it’s closer to 4am than 3am, and miraculously, the storm has blown over. 

“Thanks, Ashe. I owe you, honestly. Storms always bother me, but I think the lack of sleep isn’t helping,” Sylvain says as they stand up to leave. 

“It’s no trouble,” Ashe replies, collecting the books he needs to check out, hesitating for a breath before steeling himself. 

“If it ever gets bad like that, you have my number. You can always call or message, even late at night. I am usually awake anyway,” he says. 

Sylvain’s eyes flicker between them, and he smiles, tired and genuine. 

“Thanks, Ashe. But I should be fine. Got this far,” he says with a laugh, and Ashe sighs. He understands to some extent but Sylvain is being so stubborn, it just makes him want to do the same in return. 

“You can call whenever Sylvain,” he says, then decides it’s too late to go over this again, and bids his friend goodbye before checking out the books and making his way home. 

The rain is barely in the air by the time he gets back to his dorms, and the light is starting to filter through. He’s going to have to try his best to finish this all tomorrow, hoping his concentration is better. 

He collapses into bed, and tries not to think of Sylvain. He fails. And he’s not too upset by this. 

* * *

He’s not sure what wakes him, the light or the sound, but Ashe starts up bed, greeted with an assault on the senses, a violent storm in motion outside his window. He sits back down as thunder rumbles, the hammering of the rain too much to be soothing, and will most likely keep him awake until it eases. 

He rolls himself in his blankets, defence against the slight chill. It’s still a good feeling though, being wrapped up and warming slowly as the window howls, Ashe protected and safe from the eye of the storm. He drifts, for it’s too noisy to sleep but it’s pleasant, comforting really. 

His eyes snap open as he suddenly recalls someone else who will not be enjoying this so much. 

He flips over and grabs his phone, still thankfully with enough battery to use, and thumbs open Sylvain’s contact details. He hesitates for a moment, but when lightning illuminates the room, he quickly types out a message and sends before he can second guess himself. 

It seems though, he was right in his initial assumption, for his phone vibrates with an answer almost immediately. He sits up as he reads. 

_ Hey, yeah I’m awake. It’s pretty bad out.  _

Ashe frowns. Sylvain hasn’t actually told him how he’s doing, but Ashe doesn’t want to push it any further. He blinks though as Sylvain starts typing after only a few seconds of silence. 

_ I’m not really okay. _

It’s short but clear, and Ashe feels his heart beat double time at Sylvain’s starkness. He’s been edging around the issue for so long and in general, Sylvain is bad at saying what he means. Perhaps that’s been the issue all along, he thinks to himself. It’s easier to type that it is to talk. 

He thinks for a moment before sending a reply. 

_ What can I do to help? Would you like a distraction?  _

Ashe half types out a second message, then erases it. He looks up and stares at the rain, then back at his phone with renewed determination. 

_ You can come over if you like. I probably won’t fall back to sleep. If you need company. _

He almost flings his phone across the bed once sent, only just managing to place it down carefully then scream quietly into his hands. That was probably too forward, too obvious. He truly has no real ulterior motive, other than he cares for Sylvain slightly more than is platonic. And he’s actually quite concerned now after seeing his behaviour in the library. 

His phone vibrates, and he dives to read the response fingers shaking slightly. 

_ Alright, I’ll be there in five.  _

Ashe blinks, nerves dissolving to be replaced by heightened worry. It’s almost a little too short for Sylvain, and Ashe stumbles out of bed, struggling out of his sleep wear into jeans and a t-shirt, then quickly straightening up his room. He grabs two packets of tea bags from his stash, unsure exactly what Sylvain will like before wandering to the kitchens. 

He doesn’t have any treats left, but he does make himself a pot of mint tea and set out the sugar to make up for it. By the time he’s down that, Sylvain messages to say he’s almost there, and Ashe leaves the kitchen and races down the staircase so Sylvain is not left in the storm for too long. 

He may pause to check his hair in the window as he goes. Comb it through a little with his fingers. But no one else is awake to see it. 

The timing is perfect, as Ashe reaches the door just as Sylvain walks up to it, huge umbrella keeping the rain off. As soon as he sets it down, water drips on his hair, and he’s forced to shake it out as he steps into the hallway. 

Ashe’s throat goes dry as Sylvain pulls the damp strands back from his eyes. So he clears his throat and hopes the blush he feels creeping up his neck doesn’t stand out in the yellowish lighting of the entrance way. 

“Let’s go upstairs,” Ashe says, then winces at the implications, especially as Sylvain chuckles from behind, as he hurries up the stairs, heartbeat echoing with every step. 

“I made tea,” Ashe says as they reach the kitchens, turning to see Sylvain’s smile lift. Ashe makes his way over to the mugs as Sylvain hangs his coat over a chair. Ashe pours the tea and gestures for Sylvain to sit, before sliding a mug over. 

“Thanks, Ashe. You didn’t have to,” he says, and Ashe knows he’s not talking about the tea. 

“I know, but I’m happy you came,” he says, and Sylvain blinks over the rim of his mug, then averts his eyes as he takes a sip. 

It’s quiet between them, somewhere between awkward and serene, but Ashe doesn’t feel too pressured to make conversation. He lets Sylvain settle, watches as his shoulders fall, tension eking away with the warmth of the tea. Ashe finishes half his mug before he sets it down with purpose. 

“Is there anything you want to talk about, Sylvain? There’s no pressure, but it seems that this type of weather is causing you a lot of problems. And well, it’s probably not going to stop anytime soon,” Ashe says with a slight chuckle, an attempt at lightening the statement. 

Sylvain doesn’t answer for a moment, eyes flickering elsewhere in avoidance before he sighs heavily and looks to Ashe. There’s something different about that gaze, a gravitas to it, one that Ashe has seen glimpses of but never to this extend. He knows this is Sylvain being himself, and Ashe feels his back straightening, senses sharpening even when it’s late at night. 

“I got caught in a storm once. When I was a kid. A bad one...a really bad one,” he starts, finger starting to circle the rim of his mug in an abstract way. He sighs and tips his head back once before continuing. 

“It came on pretty quickly. I was with my brother. But as soon as it started he...left me. And the rain got worse, and worse until I could barely see, and no one was around as they’d all had a storm warning. But I was a kid, and had no idea,” he says. 

“Your brother left you?” Ashe cuts in, voice high in alarm. He has two siblings himself, and thought of leaving either of them out in a storm has his hackles rising. 

Sylvain laughs, hollow and bitter, causing the hair on Ashe’s neck to rise. 

“Yeah. He was like that. I’m pretty sure he deliberately took me out knowing there was a storm coming. He wasn’t my biggest fan.” 

There’s a lot in there, and Ashe just about holds himself back from exploring it. But it’s clearly not the point of the story, even if it’s making Ashe’s usual level temper rise and his fingers shake with the need to reach out. But instead he drums them on the table and gives Sylvain a small nod, an invitation to continue. 

“My parents live by the lakes. We’d gone walking there and I couldn’t find my way in the storm, so I got turned around. Huge open space, lots of rain, lightning bright in the sky. I could have sworn it struck the ground near me. I still see that in my nightmares sometimes…” Sylvain trails off, looking past Ashe and into nothing, thoughts slipping back into terrors. 

Ashe then does move, reaches out his hand and cover’s Sylvain’s which still surround his mug. He jolts, but does not pull away, glances up at Ashe before shifting his hand slightly. Ashe moves his own, but starts when Sylvain grips it back, slowly intertwining their fingers together before allowing it to rest on the table. 

Ashe knows he’s blushing, tries to will it down but his face feels hot in the otherwise tepid room. But he steels himself, squeezing Sylvain’s fingers once, and Sylvain squeezes right back, a small smile on his face. 

“Anyway. At some point I was running and not looking where I was going, and I fell into the lake. I don’t remember much, just the shock of the cold, and the water going into my nose and mouth and then...not really much else,” he says, breath escaping shakily, and Ashe wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around him and hug away those memories. 

Ashe waits though, for a sign of what to do as Sylvain steadies himself. 

“Someone must have seen me as I got pulled out of the water. I was unconscious but alive. Ended up missing a lot of school being sick, but as a kid that was kind of a good thing,” he says, and the smile is lopsided but real, Ashe thinking there may have been some good times in that recovery period. 

But still. The whole story explains many things, and he’s glad to know it. 

“You know, I haven’t told anyone. Not the truth anyway, that Miklan left me out there. He told our parents I ran off,” he says, and Ashe can’t take it anymore, and stands, still holding onto Sylvain’s hand as he marches around the table and folds him into a hug. 

Sylvain stiffens for a moment, then practically melts into it, his full weight leaning on Ashe who stumbles a little, before righting himself. He hugs Ashe back, arms squeezing him so tightly he can barely breathe, and Ashe holds him right back. He treasures it really, this moment where he can give comfort to Sylvain like he’s wanted to for so long. And clearly, Sylvain needs it from how hard he’s holding on. 

Ashe takes his cue from Sylvain, and retreats once Sylvain pulls back. He smiles up at Ashe, a little nervously, lifting his hand to scratch the back of his head. 

“Thank you for listening, Ashe. Honestly, that was easier than I thought it would be,” he says, and Ashe smiles. 

“No need to thank me. Opening up can be hard, but it’s often better once it’s done,” he says, but Sylvain shakes his head. 

“Pretty sure it has more to do with who I’m opening up to,” he says, eyes meeting Ashe’s dead on, and Ashe is struck dumb for a moment, not sure if he’s grasping at straws. 

The moment is broken though by Sylvain yawning, and Ashe chuckles. 

“It’s pretty late, you should get some rest. You can stay here, no point in travelling back in this weather,” Ashe says, gesturing to the window where the rain still falls, even if it seems it’s eased somewhat since Sylvain arrived. 

“Are you sure? These rooms are hardly spacious,” Sylvain says as Ashe clears up, leaving the washing up until morning. 

“It’s fine, my room at home is far smaller,” he says with a laugh, and leads the way to his room, unlocking the door. 

He forgets the obvious as soon as he lets Sylvain in. There’s literally nowhere for him to sleep. 

“Don’t you dare say you’re sleeping on the floor, I’m the one who interrupted you,” Sylvain says, and Ashe turns to face him. 

_ Just say it, _ a voice inside him urges, so he inhales once before gesturing to the unmade bed. 

“We can share,” he blurts out and Sylvain starts to grin, smile taking on a teasing edge. 

“Aww, if I’d known that was all it takes to get into your bed, I would have come over sooner,” he says with a wink and Ashe scowls. Sylvain holds up his hands though, smile quickly falling back into Ashe’s preferred expression, just easy comfort. 

“Kidding, I promise. Only if you’re sure though,” he says. 

Ashe nods, although he knows he’s blushing a little, and settles back into bed, back to the wall. Sylvain removes his hoodie so he’s just down to his t-shirt, and Ashe fails at not staring at how well it fits his figure. 

The bed really is too small for two adults, but Ashe is not expecting Sylvain to immediately cuddle up to him, and lets out a squeak as he’s suddenly surrounded. Sylvain laughs, the vibrations comfortingly coursing through Ashe. 

“We should talk in the morning,” he says, and Sylvain nods. 

“Yeah. We should. But let’s sleep for now,” he says. 

A second later he immediately jerks at a particularly roaring gust of wind, and Ashe curls an arm around his waist, muttering soothing sounds, not really sure with how tired he is, if they’re actually words. It isn’t long before he falls into sleep, the rain and Sylvain’s presence lulling him under. 

* * *

Ashe wakes slowly. He’s warm, far too warm for his liking and grimaces as he tried to remove the blankets, however a heavy presence forbids it. Ashe stills, remembrance of the night before creeping back as his mind clears, and realises the warmth is coming from Sylvain, still fast asleep beside him. 

Ashe carefully flips over and stares at the ceiling for a moment, just absorbing all that occurred, feeling his face heat up at how bold he’d been a few times. 

_ We should talk in the morning.  _

Well, it is certainly morning, but Sylvain clearly needs the rest, and while part of Ashe does very much want to curl up and nap with him, that’s not really acceptable while they’re still in this limbo. So, breakfast it is. 

With some contorting, Ashe manages to extract himself from the bed without waking Sylvain, and closes the door carefully behind him as he makes his way to the kitchen. It’s just past 10, and while there’s evidence of his dormmates having used the kitchen this morning, at the moment, no one is here. 

This suits well, so Ashe goes to the fridge and starts picking out ingredients to make omelettes. He’s pretty sure Sylvain likes them, plus cooking is a good distraction from the upcoming conversation. 

He knows they need to talk. He’s pretty sure that Sylvain thinks of him along the same lines, but whether or not that means he wants anything to change between them is another matter. He can’t help therefore in being somewhat nervous as he places together the ingredients. 

The sound of footsteps has his back straightening and although logically it could be someone from his dorm, a part of him just knows it’s Sylvain. 

“Good morning, wow you’re cooking a real breakfast,” Sylvain says as he enters and Ashe chuckles, tension leaking away with the surprised tone. 

“It’s not that hard, plus I like cooking. It’s nearly ready,” he says, concentrating on putting the food on plates rather than looking over his shoulder at Sylvain. 

“I’m impressed you want to cook in the morning though. Anything I can do to help?” he asks. 

“There’s coffee or tea in my cupboard, it’s the first on the left,” Ashe says, and he feels Sylvain march over, pick whatever he wants and then make his way to the hot water dispenser. 

Ashe takes in a breath as he turns off the stove, before picking up the plates and turning. Sylvain is still fixing drinks, so Ashe can take a moment to place the plates down and take a seat. Despite his preparation, he’s still not fully ready when Sylvain turns, looking a little sleepy, hair standing on end as he carries over a cup of mint tea and places it in front of him. 

It’s just so utterly adorable and domestic, having breakfast together, sharing food and drink...he’s leaping ahead of himself already. Not to mention just how good Sylvain looks tousled and still yawning as he thanks Ashe profusely for the breakfast. 

There’s a few moments of silence as they eat before Sylvain speaks. 

“How did you sleep? Know there wasn’t much space with me there,” he says, and winks which of course sets Ashe slightly off guard as he fumbles with his fork. 

“F-fine, actually. How about you, did you manage to rest?” he asks, and Sylvain nods. 

“Probably the best night’s sleep I’ve had during bad weather in years. All thanks to you,” he says, seriousness clear and Ashe swallows a slightly too hot tea, knowing a segue when he hears one. 

“I’m glad, and well, you are...always welcome. To stay over,” he says, and knows he’s blushing deeply as he finishes off the last of his food. 

Sylvain laughs, warm and bright before leaning back, plate clear. 

“How can I resist such an offer? But really Ashe, I think I should take you out on a date before I spend another night here. Seems only proper,” he says, and Ashe feels his smile grow across his face, Sylvain’s own matching. 

“It is only proper,” he replies, and Sylvain laughs again before standing. 

“Let me wash up,” he says, and Ashe nods in thanks as Sylvain piles up their empty plates. 

However, just as he passes by, he leans down, Ashe looking up, and he knows exactly what’s coming, already fully prepared when Sylvain presses a kiss to his lips. 

It’s a brush, a taste; a lead up to something more, and Ashe is half tempted to drag him down by the collar and demand they deepen it, but now is not the time. So he kisses back, tilts his head and listens to Sylvain’s tiny hitches of breath as they work out how to kiss for the first time, ending in a long drawn out moment of connection, Ashe’s eyes fluttering open languidly as Sylvain pulls back. 

To Ashe’s absolute joy, he looks somewhat flustered, clearing his throat and gesturing to the sink. 

“I’ll just err, clean the plates,” he says and Ashe grins. 

“Hurry back,” he replies, and Sylvain almost trips over himself a little at the remark, clearly not expecting it as he rushes to the sink. 

Ashe smiles, looking out of the window as cool sunshine streams across the room. He always did love storms, and now he has another reason to. For despite the terrible experiences in Sylvain’s past, they may never have gotten this far without them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, come find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/EnlacingL/)
> 
> And follow arts_truck [here](http://www.twitter.com/arts_truck/)


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